


Technicolor

by hollyanneg



Series: Tumblr prompts [4]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: (oh my god they were roommates), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyanneg/pseuds/hollyanneg
Summary: If Ronan says he just wants to be friends with benefits, then Adam's fine with that. Really. He is...For the prompts "we’re not just friends and you fucking know it" and "You can't keep pretending it didn't happen, cause guess what? It did."
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: Tumblr prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193342
Comments: 14
Kudos: 140





	Technicolor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dorypop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorypop/gifts), [creativefiend19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativefiend19/gifts).



> Ok I love writing college AUs, idk why. This is not the same universe as RA!Adam from the other day, but I do plan to write a bit more of that :)

When did it start?

Oh, you could place the beginning at a few different junctures. You could place it on the day Adam moved into his freshman dorm and came face-to-face with his randomly-assigned roommate for the first time.

You could place it on the first day they decided they didn’t hate each other. This revelation came about because Ronan had a contraption he’d been building on his desk—scaffolding? a skyscraper? Adam wasn’t sure—and now it smelled badly of fresh paint fumes. When Adam complained, Ronan mumbled he was building it for his little brother’s birthday and it’d be gone soon.

Adam knew very little about his roommate up to that point, so he said, surprised. “You have a brother?”

“Two,” said Ronan through a bite of doughnut.

“And you’re building him a...?” Adam honestly had no idea what it was.

“Rocketship.”

“Ah.”

Ronan turned away, like the conversation was over.

Adam, still wonderstruck, said, “So you do have a soul.” And only afterwards thought about how incredibly mean that sounded.

Ronan turned back towards him slowly. He cocked an eyebrow at Adam and took another bite of his doughnut. “Well, if that makes you hate me less, Parrish.” He shrugged. It sounded like he was trying very hard to act like he didn’t care, when actually he really did.

They had antagonized each other badly up to this point in the semester. Their standards of cleanliness didn’t line up, nor their standards of politeness and consideration for others. At least, that was Adam’s take on it. Their schedules weren’t compatible either. Ronan’s random, noisy comings and goings interrupted Adam’s studying and sleep far more often than he could handle.

But. “I don’t hate you,” he said.

Ronan looked him over carefully and didn’t say anything.

Adam decided to extend an olive branch. “Tell me more about your rocketship.”

-

You could also place it on the first day they kissed, and that was the beginning in Adam’s mind. Everything before was black and white, and then, suddenly— _color._ It was walking through the door into Oz. Everything changed completely.

Since they’d tentatively become friends, things in their room were a lot less tense, and they talked more, but they didn’t hang out, not really.

It was a Sunday night. Adam had caught up with all his homework for once and was sitting at his desk, a bit lost. What did one do when one didn’t have work or school or any other obligations?

Outside, a storm was raging. High winds, heavy rain, and thunder loud enough to make them both jump occasionally.

Ronan was on his side of the room throwing silly putty at the wall and peeling it back off repeatedly. Adam had protested mildly about possible paint damage; predictably, Ronan didn’t care.

While Adam was pondering what to do with himself, Ronan suddenly groaned loudly. “Fuuuck, I hate being stuck inside,” he said. “I was gonna go out tonight.”

Adam didn’t know what Ronan did when he “went out,” but he thought it was vaguely illegal. “I’m bored,” Adam admitted.

Ronan turned to look at him more directly. “We should do something,” he said.

“What? Burn down a building?” This type of comment was acceptable now that they were semi-friends. Ronan could lean into his delinquent image just a bit, and Adam could call him on it.

Ronan threw the silly putty at _him;_ Adam dodged it.

“Nah. Damn, what do people even do when they’re stuck at home. It’s like it’s 1899.”

Adam smiled—he couldn’t help it. Ronan was oddly whimsical at times. “What’s 1899?”

“Just—a long time ago. When there was nothing to do.”

Adam grinned harder—he couldn’t help it. Well, what _did_ people do when they were bored? This was what had perplexed him on his own. What did _Ronan_ do when he was here?

“We could watch a movie,” Adam said.

“Yeah, okay,” said Ronan, more agreeable than usual.

After some discussion, Ronan put on “Iron Man” because he was scandalized that Adam hadn’t seen any Marvel movies. They ended up sitting on Ronan’s bed, pressed shoulder to shoulder so they could both see Ronan’s laptop screen.

And maybe that was it—the proximity. The darkness of the room, after they turned out the lights to see better. The coziness of being inside, out of the storm. The way their hands brushed when they each reached for popcorn. Maybe that’s why it happened.

When the movie was over, it was only about 9:00. They looked at each other blankly. “What now?” said Adam.

They were still pressed together—neither of them had moved. The way Ronan was looking at him was heady. Adam didn’t quite understand it until Ronan leaned in and kissed him.

It was quick and sweet. Ronan pulled back with his eyes closed. Before he could think too much about it, Adam pulled him back in.

They ended up making out on Ronan’s bed. They lay down, laptop discarded on the floor. Parallel and face-to-face, Ronan had his tongue in Adam’s mouth and his hand in Adam’s hair. Adam’s hand was sneaking its way up under Ronan’s shirt. He liked the feel of those stomach muscles clenching and then relaxing. The room was a little cool, but Ronan was so warm. It made sense—he was always so hyper-present. He was like fire.

Adam didn’t question what was happening. He liked it too much. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed how hot his roommate was—the height, the tattoo, the piercing blue eyes, the leather and denim. Adam was amazed he hadn’t been overwhelmed by it before now.

Ronan wasn’t an expert kisser by any means. It was adorable how hard he was trying. He loosened up the longer they went on, and Adam sank deeper and deeper into whatever this was. He fell asleep in Ronan’s bed.

In the morning, he was alone in their room. He wasn’t too bothered by it. He didn’t know Ronan’s class schedule—or if Ronan ever _attended_ class—but he could have one on Monday mornings. He could’ve gone to get breakfast or gone to the gym or literally anything. Adam got up and got ready for the day and pushed aside the desire for more kisses. _Maybe tonight_ , he thought.

Ronan didn’t come back that night. He didn’t come back until Wednesday night—sometime after Adam had gone to bed. Adam didn’t see him until the next morning, sleeping in his own bed.

By then, Adam had cycled through several different emotions. When Ronan hadn’t come back Monday night, Adam had worried. Had something happened to him? Then he told himself he was being silly—Ronan had something to do tonight, that was all.

The next day, things became clearer. Ronan was avoiding him. Hardcore avoiding him—nothing had moved on his side of the room while Adam was in class. He hadn’t been there at all. So Adam was ashamed—was he so repellent? Did Ronan regret making out with him _that_ much? Then he was angry, because Ronan could at least be decent enough to tell him so. The anger stayed with him, paired with a little more worry, because where on earth was Ronan staying? Presumably he had friends, but he never mentioned them or had them over.

Because of the worry, he was a little relieved to see Ronan in his bed Thursday morning. But he stayed angry. He came back from class ready for a showdown, and Ronan _was_ still there. Adam paused in the doorway, and they locked eyes. Ronan’s pale face was flushed—what did that mean? Adam waited for something—an explanation or an apology or a rejection—but after a moment, Ronan just turned away, like _he_ was the one ashamed.

Adam went to his side of the room and threw his backpack down with some force. He was furious and humiliated—of course Ronan would be ashamed of being with someone like him, even for only one night. Adam would never escape his upbringing—it was as visible as a second skin. It didn’t matter that he’d escaped his hometown and gotten into a prestigious university—everyone could still tell that he was trailer trash. From dust, and to dust he would return.

He felt miserable, and yet, the vibrancy, the intensity, the technicolor of that night stayed with him. It was a little crushing to realize he’d never get to have that again.

-

That was the beginning of October.

Ronan didn’t speak to him for 12 days, including the time he’d been gone. They skirted around each other carefully in the room. Adam spent more time elsewhere and seethed with anger and hurt whenever he had to be there.

And then it was fall break, and Adam came back from his last class to see Ronan packing a duffle. He’d be going home for the break, probably. Home to be with his beloved baby brother, Matthew—after the rocketship incident, Ronan had told Adam all about him.

Adam decided he’d had enough. He wasn’t going to let Ronan disappear on him again without at least talking it. He slammed the door as he came all the way in. That got Ronan’s attention.

“Gonna run away again and not deal with your shit?” Adam spat. He hadn’t given any thought to what to say—he just wanted Ronan to acknowledge it.

Ronan took a long time to answer, looking back down at his bag. “You haven’t dealt with it either.”

Adam gaped. “I’m not the one who disappeared for three days after! Who just didn’t come home!” When Ronan didn’t answer, Adam said, “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, ‘cause guess what? It did. It changes everything—do you really want to live with this much tension for the rest of the year?”

“Why don’t you just petition for a new roommate, Parrish?” Ronan sounded tired and defeated. He threw a couple more things in his bag and zipped it up. “Thought you’d be glad to have me out of your hair for a few days.”

“I just want to talk about it,” said Adam helplessly.

Ronan finally looked at him again. “What is there to say?”

Adam took just a second to ask himself what he wanted to say. He was still blocking the door—Ronan couldn’t run away from this conversation unless he threw himself out the window. Which suddenly didn’t seem impossible. He lifted his chin and tried to keep his voice from shaking. “Why did you run away?”

“Fuck,” said Ronan, looking away again and kicking at one of his shoes on the floor. “Man, what do you want me to say? I went away for a bit so you wouldn’t have to deal with me.”

“I don’t buy that,” Adam shot back. Ronan just gave him a quizzical look. Adam struggled for words. “Just... why would you think I wouldn’t want to see you?”

“Just thought you’d be embarrassed,” Ronan mumbled. “About what happened.”

Had they really both been thinking the same thing? Adam was still angry, but he leaned against the door and let himself think that over. “I wasn’t,” he said finally. “I liked it. I wanted to see you the next day.” He had nothing to lose by saying that. Ronan wasn’t his to lose. If things were still going to be horribly awkward after this, he might very well ask to change rooms.

But now Ronan was looking at him in a whole new way. “You liked it?”

“Yeah.”

“Like, you wanted to do it again?”

Adam huffed half a laugh. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? Making out is fun.”

“Oh,” said Ronan. “Oh.”

Adam didn’t change rooms. Ronan did still go home for the break but only after kissing Adam thoroughly for half an hour.

And when he came back four days later, the first thing he did, before saying hello, was kiss Adam again.

So things went on like that for a bit. Adam went to class and came back and made out with Ronan. Adam studied and Ronan messed around and pestered him for more kisses. Adam slept and Ronan went out on his mysterious nighttime adventures, and they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t talk about anything too serious. They never talked about families—Adam was relieved, and then felt a bit selfish for it, when he realized that aside from Matthew, Ronan’s family was a taboo topic. It meant Adam never had to talk about where he came from. They didn’t talk about the scars Adam found one day when he was running his fingers up and down the soft inside of Ronan’s arm. Adam had looked at them and looked up at Ronan, who’d turned his face away. This kind of scar spoke for itself. Adam wanted to beg Ronan not to do it again. _Stay here with me_. But he couldn’t say it.

Adam complained to Ronan about his classes—that was as serious their conversations got—and Ronan listened and didn’t try to fix it. He’d just joke that Adam should drop out and Adam would elbow him and say, “That’s not actually funny.” But the more time they spent together, the more he found Ronan endearing. He was so much sweeter than he pretended to be.

Sometimes they didn’t talk at all, just sat together holding hands or leaning against each other. It took Adam a while to realize why he loved these moments so much. He wasn’t used to casual touches, casual affection. He wasn’t used to having anyone to lean on.

By mid-November, they’d moved past kissing. They never talked about that, either, just slowly started to explore new parts of each other, started taking off more clothes. Ronan was attentive—another part of his hidden, soft side. He paid attention to what Adam liked, what spots were the most sensitive, what he could do with his mouth or hands to make Adam shiver and moan. _Nothing’s ever felt this good_ , Adam would think, over and over, his mind like a broken record. The world in technicolor again.

He tried to pay Ronan back in kind. He tried to study Ronan like he would any other subject. _I want to get this right,_ he thought.

This all happened behind closed doors, in their room. Their paths rarely crossed outside their room—they didn’t have the same friends or take the same classes. Adam didn’t mind keeping it a bit secret. It felt too precious and delicate to be exposed to the rest of the world.

The winter holiday came. Adam was going to spend it with a friend, and Ronan was going home again. They wouldn’t see each other for nearly a month, and Adam was secretly a bit sad about it. He knew he’d miss the touching, the warmth.

Two nights before they left for the break, they were in Ronan’s bed. Adam had his head on Ronan’s chest and Ronan’s arms around him. He loved this too—sleeping with someone else.

But they hadn’t fallen asleep yet, and in the darkness Ronan said, “Can I ask you something?”

His voice was a bit stiff, and Adam was suddenly wary. But he said yes.

“What are we?” Ronan whispered. “Like—where do we stand... like, relationship-wise?”

This was a question Adam had ignored the whole time. Not because he didn’t want to answer it, but because it hadn’t seemed to matter. Why put a public label on a private thing? “Um,” he said. He searched for an answer, but nothing seemed right. He didn’t know what Ronan wanted to hear.

The silence stretched long. Ronan loosened his hold on Adam a bit and finally said, slowly, haltingly, “If you wanted... this... to be just like... friends with benefits... that would be... okay.”

Adam let out a long breath. There was his answer—that was what Ronan wanted to hear. All right. He wasn’t terribly shocked. He let go of the small hope for something more and said, “That’s all right.”

“All right,” said Ronan.

-

It was a long, awkward, lonely break with his friend’s family. They were all strangers to him. Adam wondered about Christmas at the Barns, the family farm Ronan sometimes spoke of. Would it be warm and cozy, like their room? Would everyone be at ease with each other instead of tiptoeing around?

Maybe not, given all the things Ronan never said about his family. Still, Adam allowed himself to dream of this magical, perfect Christmas Ronan might be having, just to help the time pass.

He wondered if things would be different between them after the break. Would Ronan expect different things based on the “friends with benefits” label? More sex? Less talking? Well, no, friends talked. Of course they did. It just sounded like such an impersonal label to Adam, even though he knew it probably wasn’t meant to be.

Nothing _was_ different though, when he got back to school. Ronan was pleased to see him and pulled him into a hug right away. They fell straight back into their routine. It was comforting, and yet, something pricked at him. The routine felt less right than before.

And then, in February, something happened. Ronan came back one day from wherever it was he went and said bluntly—before hello—“Somebody asked me out.”

Adam had to sit down. He hoped he wasn’t too obviously collapsing onto his desk chair. He wasn’t devastated; it wasn’t that. This was just so shocking and sudden, and Ronan wasn’t pulling any punches, standing in front of him with one of his demanding faces on. A _pay attention, we’re going to talk about this_ kind of face.

“Oh?” said Adam finally. And when Ronan didn’t volunteer more information--“Who?”

“Friend of a friend,” he said vaguely. “We bonded about cars.”

Well. He and Adam had talked about cars plenty of times. Adam had been a mechanic, hadn’t he? He defied this mysterious “friend of a friend” to know more about cars than he did. “Well,” said Adam, managing to sound casual, “do you like him?”

“He’s hot,” said Ronan, still blunt.

Adam leaned back in his chair. “Yeah? What does it for you?” He dared Ronan to answer either way— _you_ or _not you._

“Brown eyes,” said Ronan. “Fucking love brown eyes. And black hair. And I like beefy guys. You know, so much muscle they look like the Hulk.”

Adam laughed—he couldn’t help it, even if the description wasn’t what he’d hoped for.

Ronan offered a small smile in return, then turned back to demanding. “Well? Should I go out with him?

Adam ignored the pangs in his chest and turned back to his homework. “What are you asking me for? You don’t need permission. That’s not our deal.” That was how these things worked, right? Friends with benefits weren’t exclusive. The whole point was to keep your options open, right?

Ronan went over and flopped down on his bed. Adam tried to focus on math instead of the ache in his chest.

After a while Ronan said, “I texted him. The guy. Car Guy.”

“Cool,” said Adam without turning.

“We’re going out.”

“Cool.”

-

They went back to avoiding each other. Adam missed the touches. He’d settle for anything right now—the barest brush of an arm. He’d sneak peeks at Ronan out of the corner of his eye when they were both in the room and ask himself if he could initiate something. Ronan probably wouldn’t turn him down, even now.

If he got serious with Car Guy, on the other hand, then this was over. Car Guy wouldn’t want to share his boyfriend. Adam didn’t fancy angering someone who looked like the Hulk, either.

He didn’t know when the date was going to be. He agonized about it every time Ronan went out. Is it now? Are they together? Are they kissing? Surely they wouldn’t do more than that, not on a first date, right?

Once a week had passed, Adam assumed the date had happened already. Then Ronan came in late-ish one night. 10:00. He sat down on his bed and took off his boots. Adam stared determinedly at the book he was reading. Then Ronan announced, “I went out with that guy again.”

 _“Again?”_ Adam couldn’t help it—it just spilled out. Well. That was it, then.

“Yup. Saturday and today.”

Today was Thursday. He didn’t look over, but he could feel Ronan staring at him, waiting for a reaction. Adam refused to give it.

Then Ronan said, “Does that bother you?”

“Why should it bother me?” Adam asked lightly. But his stomach was plummeting to his feet.

“Who are you gonna screw around with now?”

Adam winced at that phrasing. It had been more than that, hadn’t it? Ronan was just trying to get to him. Ronan was angry. But why? What right did he have to be angry?

When the silence got too loud to bear, Adam said, “Don’t you worry about me.”

“Well friends help each other out, don’t they?” Ronan asked sarcastically. “Want me to set you up with someone, Parrish?”

Adam had had enough. He threw his book down and whipped around. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it. You are the last person I want setting me up with anyone, so stop baiting me, all right? I don’t want to have this conversation.”

Ronan looked satisfied for a moment, then his expression turned more complicated. Quietly, he said, “Why don’t you just say what you want to say, then?”

What did he think Adam wanted to say? He took the opportunity to try to shut this down further. “It’s your choice if you wanna date someone else, but don’t talk to _me_ about it, okay? I don’t wanna know. I don’t wanna discuss your love life.” He picked his book back up and tried to blink away sudden tears so the words would stop swimming in front of him.

“And that bothers you, Parrish,” Ronan said, careful but still playing some kind of game, “because we _aren’t_ just friends?”

“Yup,” said Adam. He wanted this scene to be over so, so badly.

“If you were making the rules—” This was the same voice Ronan used when he mocked Adam for studying so much or about his need for cleanliness. A snarky voice. “If you called all the shots, what would we be?”

That surprised Adam enough that he looked up again. “What kind of a question is that?”

Ronan was looking at him steadily, no longer playing. “Have you ever wanted to be more than just friends with me?”

Oh. Oh.

They were on a precipice. Ronan was talking about what _he_ wanted, not what Adam wanted. His prodding felt a little unfair when he was the one who’d established their “friends with benefits” status to begin with. Had going out with someone else provoked some kind of revelation? Adam didn’t know whether to be angry or thrilled, and he had to tread carefully here. Finally he just said, “Yes.”

A fleeting smile passed over Ronan’s face—there and gone. He stood and came over to Adam’s bed, hovering a bit. “What did you want, then?”

Adam chose his words precisely. “When you asked me what we were. Back in December. I hadn’t thought about it much before, but when you asked, I thought how nice it’d be to have something serious. But then you were saying ‘friends with benefits,’ and I didn’t want to scare you or pressure you, so I agreed. There. Is that what you wanted me to say?”

Ronan didn’t look pleased—he looked stricken. “I thought that’s what _you_ wanted.”

“What? Friends with benefits? Why?”

“I asked you and then you didn’t fucking say anything! You were quiet so long I started to completely freak out. I was there thinking fast, like, what do I say to keep from losing him?”

They stared at each other for a moment. Adam was about to be very, very happy—at least he thought so—but he wasn’t there yet. Ronan looming over him wasn’t helping, so Adam gently pushed him back and stood up too. “I didn’t know what to say. I was thinking it over. Then I agreed to what I thought you wanted.”

Now, Ronan smiled in a childish way—like he couldn’t possibly stop himself. “Wow, so we’re both fucking idiots, I guess.”

Ronan kissed him for the first time in more than a week. It had felt so much longer. This was fresh air. This was color creeping back into Adam’s world. He grabbed the lapels of Ronan’s leather jacket and held on tight.

The kiss was its own little world—it went on forever. Adam truly wasn’t sure how long it had been before Ronan pulled away, mussed Adam’s hair fondly, and said, “Does that settle everything, or do we need to talk some more?”

Adam knew Ronan was more a man of action than of words, but he wasn’t quite done yet. He put his arms around Ronan’s waist and said, “Tell me how you feel about me. I want to hear you say it.”

Ronan dropped his head onto Adam’s shoulder and laughed a little. “God, you asshole. I’m fucking crazy about you, fuck, what do you think? I’m not any good at games, what, did you really think I liked that other guy? I only want you. Is that good enough for you?”

“Yes,” said Adam, grinning and blushing and so pleased.

“Now you have to say it,” Ronan said into Adam’s neck. “How you feel.”

“I like you. I feel good when I’m with you. I wanted you to be my boyfriend this whole time.”

“So I’m your fucking boyfriend then.”


End file.
